


On Restraint and Things Unsaid

by pyrrhic_victoly



Category: Kyou Kara Maou
Genre: Drabble Sequence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-13
Updated: 2010-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-29 02:10:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/999633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyrrhic_victoly/pseuds/pyrrhic_victoly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwendal’s not one for lengthy confessions, but sometimes less is more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Restraint and Things Unsaid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pheecat](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=pheecat).



> prompts from [](http://13drabbles.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://13drabbles.livejournal.com/)**13drabbles** , written for pheecat

**Quirky**

Yuuri said it was like being Alice in Wonderland except that he was also the Queen of Hearts. It was like being a Yankee in King Arthur’s Court except that he was secretly King Arthur because King Arthur lived a double life and Excalibur was a perverted old man.

What did any of that gibberish mean?

Gwendal merely grunted in reply as Yuuri rambled on about whatever it was that he was rambling about. In secret, though he was quick to hide it behind a cough when Yuuri turned to look, Gwendal smiled as he listened.

Because it was... cute.

 

 

**Desserts**

There were many things Gwendal had done in his youth that weren’t “princely”. Chief among those were knitting and baking.

Back then, no one knew of his knitting save for Anissina, who taught him, and his brothers, who received his handmade toys. No one knew of his baking except for the royal cooks, who taught him, Anissina, who knew everything, and his brothers, who received his homemade treats. He spoiled them rotten.

Presently, he scolded Conrart for spoiling the king. But then he gifted Yuuri with a stuffed cat and made cookies for the king and the little princess. Secretly.

 

 

**Glow**

Yuuri looked up and offered a shy smile. They were stuck here for the time being, separated from the others and _chained together_. Luckily, the chain had been long enough for Gwendal to start the campfire without too much discomfort.

Elopers, though? Who in their right minds would think that they looked like a couple? That was what Yuuri had been asking himself all day. But once they settled in for the night, with the fire’s glow softening Gwendal’s scowl, he found himself falling asleep in that embrace. Whoever caught Gwendal would be a lucky girl, he thought. Or guy.

 

 

**Fear**

He was used to being feared. It was one of the Laws of the Universe. The sun rose every morning, cows had four hearts, and Lord von Voltaire was to be feared.

Gwendal liked to group the fear into two categories. He took no joy in making children cry. For political rivals, it was a sick sort of enjoyment that led him to intimidate them so that they never presented such idiotic proposals ever again.

As for the king, that was the one case that started with the latter, drifted to the former, and then ended up in unknown territory.

 

 

**Heartbeat**

Gwendal had caught Yuuri from falling a couple of times. It was usually Conrart who chased after their king. Being the king’s bodyguard, it was his brother’s duty, of course. Yuuri, however, was quite accident-prone and required more than one retainer to make sure he landed on his feet, so Gwendal had his fair share of “Maou catching” as well. Snidely, he thought to himself that they could make a national sport out of it.

But for all his exasperation, there was something intimate in being pressed together after such a close call, blood rushing and hearts thumping as one.

 

 

**Dance**

Lately, Yuuri seemed to be sneaking glances at him while they worked. It wasn’t unusual to see him arriving at their office earlier than before. Presumably, he was starting to take his duties more seriously. That was what he said, anyway.

In Gwendal’s book, taking one’s duties more seriously didn’t involve coming in earlier but getting _less_ work done. It certainly didn’t involve sighing off into space with a dreamy look on one’s face.

Damn it! With Yuuri looking over at him so often, it was hard for him to find time to steal his own glaces without being discovered.

 

 

**Tell**

“Tell me,” she demanded.

Anissina always wanted to know everything. If he didn’t spill, she would torture it out of him with one of her inventions. Case in point: the whirring contraption she held in her hands right at that moment. It looked like a propeller or something, and was connected to a giant battery that was puffing strange fumes into the air at set intervals.

Gwendal pursed his lips and kept silent.

“I know you have a crush, Gwen~”

He shook his head.

“I know it’s His Majesty~”

He twitched.

If she already knew, why was he being tortured?!

 

 

**Ocean**

When Yuuri, frustrated, asked why he couldn’t see how these new policies would bring great change and progress, Gwendal said, “Because I am a stone.”

Solid. Steady. Immutable... or so he thought.

Yuuri puffed out his cheeks and ran out, seemingly in a childish fit of anger. Gwendal frowned in disappointment, but continued on with his work. Unexpectedly, the king burst back into their office and slammed a pebble onto his desk. It had been polished by a lifetime submerged in water.

“Even a stone can change!”

 _Yes, it can_ , he grudgingly admitted. _When slowly worn down in your waves._

 

 

**Power**

“With great power comes great responsibility.”

“Whoever said that was very wise.”

“Yeah, I always liked Uncle Ben.”

“Who was he?”

“...He’s from Spider-Man. It’s... a comic book.”

“Comic.”

“Like a children’s story. Only not.”

“Your eloquence astounds me, Your Majesty.”

“Your sarcasm astounds me, Lord von Voltaire.”

“Hmph. Was there a reason you brought this up?”

“Well, I was thinking about responsibility...”

“You don’t say.”

“Shut up! I was thinking about responsibility. I made some selfish proclamations and just expected you to turn them into laws. I want to change. I want to... help you more.”

“...”

“Gwendal?”

“...Thank you.”

 

 

**Follow Me**

It was much easier to lead than to follow. For most people it was the other way around, but Gwendal von Voltaire was not “most people”. Nothing about him was “average”: neither his height, nor his aristocratic background, nor his charisma, nor his skill with both pen and sword. Mediocrity was not something Gwendal would settle for.

Yuuri might have wished to be “average”, but Gwendal would not accept that because the man he had chosen to follow could never be anything less than the best. Gwendal was an extraordinary man, and for him only an extraordinary king would do.

 

 

**Time**

“Why deny that which would make you both happy?”

“Well what do you propose that I do? Throw myself at our king? I once aspired to manipulate his naivety in order to rule behind the scenes, but no longer!”

“You love him.”

“I deny myself because I love him.”

“If you don’t move now, then when?”

“In time...”

“Listen to me, brother. You don’t have time!”

If there was one person who had Yuuri’s happiness in mind, and knew what it was like to lose out on love from waiting too long, it was Conrart. So Gwendal made his move.

 

 

**Avarice**

Before he succumbed to his illness, the previous Lord von Voltaire had brushed his trembling hands against Gwendal’s brow and instilled these values into his heir. Before passing away, he had said to his son, “Eldest sons were born first to protect their younger siblings when they arrive. You will grow to be a good man. You will not fall prey to pride or greed...”

Gwendal had always been afraid that he wasn’t doing right by his brothers - that he failed them in some way. It wasn’t greed, however, that led him to steal Yuuri away.

It was love.

 

 

**Down**

The fire roared all around them, engulfing the buildings and nearby forest. As always happened in these situations, Yuuri had been the first to suggest that they ride out to the villagers’ aid. They were off on their horses not an hour after receiving the first missive. And now here he was, tears streaming down his cheeks as he struggled to call forth the rain.

It wasn’t unlike another time some years ago. Another village, another fire. But Yuuri’s heart went out to his people all the same.

This time, Gwendal knelt down and folded him into a tight embrace.


End file.
